With a hint of rain in the sky we saddled up our little ponies and headed out of Yorkshire. I swear the glacier that cut through Holmfirth was shaped like a dagger. The descent right out of the driveway tested our brakes to the max. I nearly died of exhaustion climbing out the other side of the valley. We were 30 minutes into the ride and I’m parked on the side of the road looking for a way to put out the fire burning in my quads. As we continued I managed to drop the tablet we use for mapping which skidded downhill for a hundred feet or so, thankfully screen-side up. Lesson #3: For the love of Pete secure the tablet to the bike. By then the gods were done toying with us unveiling a long sweet steady downhill for almost all of the way to our first campsite, Thryberg Country Campground.
Not much there, just a weedy field beside the highway on the edge of Sketchyville where one might put a tent if one dares. No lake, no trees, no picnic tables, no way we are staying here for longer than necessary.
After setting up the tent Leigh stood guard while I bombed back into town for groceries at the big store with the big sign that said "OPEN 24 HOURS". Got there around 4:15, doors closed, cart boy explains: "It's Sunday. Closed at 4 on Sunday, Local bylaw" and he carried on. Lesson #4: read what the sign does not say. The sign did not say "OPEN 24 HOURS EVERY DAY". Dinner ended up being a batch of freeze dried chili and rice, quite nasty but we choked it down and called it a day. The best way to get around England is to follow the National Cycling Network of bike paths. The scenery was consistently stunning, the stuff of dreams (a lot of mine anyway). Rolling English countryside with grazing sheep and fields of barley and beautiful winding ribbons of silky smooth blacktop with barely a car to be seen. A few technical difficulties and errors in navigation turned our plan for 50 km days into some lengthy re-routes and backtracks. Day 2 was 94 km, day 3 - 101 km. A metric century with panniers! Need I say more? We stayed in a different campsite each night, some better than others, all similar in layout - big field, few to no trees, some sort of small body of water if you're lucky, good showers, and a local pub. I had full intentions of cooking meals along the way, was in fact looking forward to the challenge but with longer than expected days in the saddle we opted to go to a pub on all but that first night. The pubs here are as numerous as Tim Horton's is in Canada.
Neither of us were keen on cycling through London but the National Cycling Network took us along trails that followed rivers and tiny backroads, having to ride along with vehicular traffic only to get to the flat of our next Warm Showers host Katie. Before heading out on our final stretch to Surrey we visited the velodrome and surrounding area of the London Olympic Park. I wanted so badly to bomb around on that track but that will have to be part of another adventure. After seven full days of touring we coasted into the quaint little town of Betchworth where my loving mother greeted us like royalty.